


when the levee breaks

by words_on_pages



Series: Prison Universe [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Louis, Dark Harry, Explicit Sexual Content, Louis swears a lot, M/M, cell mates, harry is slightly insane, louis is a criminal, non-con, please read tags!!, prison fic, so the atmosphere and interactions are vulgar, this IS a prison fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 03:42:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4004515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/words_on_pages/pseuds/words_on_pages
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>And then there was Styles. They lived in the same cell but ironically, unlike everyone else, he never said shit to Louis, never so much as touched him. In fact, back in their cell he ignored Louis so completely it was like he didn’t even exist. But during meal time, yard-time, showering; green eyes always watched him.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	when the levee breaks

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. I don't even know what to say about this fic. It kind of sprang up out of nowhere and manifested itself. It's also not like anything I've ever written. But I've always enjoyed darker fics. And this fandom needs more! 
> 
> [Pics of how I envisioned H & L in this fic](http://words-on-pages.tumblr.com/post/119859781930/i-wanted-to-post-pictures-of-how-i-envisioned-h). 
> 
> Literally every fandom, pairing etc. has prison!fic. Which 99% of the time has some sort of non-con. So if that's a trigger for you and you did not read the tags, but you are reading this, BE WARNED.
> 
> This was sort of inspired by one of my favorite J2 fics in SPN fandom (which btw is far more amazing than mine!) called [We're Not In Kansas Anymore](http://lotrabc.livejournal.com/4872.html). If you haven't read it and like J2 I suggest you RUN TO IT AND READ.

That silent motherfucker, Styles. He hated him, with his quiet intense stares, always watching him. He hadn't minded it at first because it had kept everyone else at bay.

Prison; how the fuck had he ended up here?

It was just a bit of burglary. In all the homes and buildings he’d ever broken into he’d never come face to face with a single person. He stole shit, is what it comes down to. He was a robin hood of this generation (except for the giving back to poor people, _he_ was the poor people). He’d never harmed a single person in his life, so he sure as hell didn’t deserve prison.

Louis' childhood had been hard, which blended into a rough slew of teenage years. Yadda, yadda, yadda. He wasn’t looking for sympathy. But an understanding that he was twenty-six years old and had been doing what he needed to do for the past decade to take care of his family and he had no regrets about that. Was it always going to catch up with him? Maybe. But he never imagined prison. He wasn’t cut out for fucking _prison_.

Since the moment he’d been sentenced and thrown in here he felt the disgusting intent of everyone’s gaze. Knew what they wanted and that it was only a matter of time. He wasn't dumb. He’d seen the TV specials, known a few people who had regaled him with stories of their time in the slammer. He knew that you either made someone your bitch in here or you became someone’s bitch. Louis sure as fuck wasn’t big or masculine enough to come out on the top end of things.

The first week was the worst one of his life.

The waiting- tight pit in his stomach, constantly tense. He felt them circling like vultures and all he was able to do was _wait_. It’s fucked up is what it is. What choice did he have? Think the guards gave two fucks? Of course not, Louis thought bitterly. In fact he was pretty sure they had placed bets to see which prisoner would be the first to tap the new pretty boy in the ass. He saw their smirks, the sick light in their eyes as they surveyed meal time.

The first week had crawled by with no one pressing him and he’d been confused. Relieved, but off kilter. Until he started to notice that everyone who sized him up like they wanted to plop him down on their filthy, fucking cock followed it up with an uneasy glance over at Styles, his cell mate. It both pissed him off and made him tremble with gratefulness. Thankful that his face wasn’t being split in two by some toothless fuck pumping himself down Louis’ throat. But that only incensed him further that he had to feel grateful to his cell mate. Who the fuck was this Styles guy?

He didn’t know what to make of him. Styles kept to himself, never spoke to anyone unless it was a polite word to the guards. He had an eerie vibe about him. There was a certain glint to his eyes and an utter calm about him that didn’t sit right with anyone. Louis noticed very quickly that he didn’t seem to play the game like the rest of them. Normal logic dictated that it would make him prey- because you either played the game or got crushed by it. And this was a world where size mattered. Styles was decently built. Long body, wide buff shoulders, lean hips. But half the population in here was bigger than him. Styles could have easily ended up on the other end like Louis too. But for some reason Styles survived on his own. Even more confusing is that he’d noticed other prisoners talking quietly to each other when Styles walked by, as if they feared him. There was something about him, an air of lithe power. But that didn’t even encapsulate it all. Louis, being almost constantly under his gaze had noticed from time to time a maniacal shine to his eyes. Seeing it, coupled with his serene demeanor had made Louis shiver with dread on more than one occasion. It was all of that then, Louis eventually concluded, which allowed him to live outside of this brutal little society. He was just too _different._ People sensed that.

Louis had obviously been trying to make himself as invisible as possible. (impossible) That meant steering away from contact with other inmates, the downside being that he had no idea what Styles' background was, what he was in here for. He was sure he could find out fairly easily, but in the scheme of things not worth chatting up baldy who eye fucked him through breakfast every morning.

So Louis continued to suffer Styles’ intense, unblinking stares. It was difficult not to welcome the focused, blank gaze considering the alternative was every other pair of greedy eyes, crawling all over him with salacious intent. Thoughts like that always sickened him. It galled him that he should be fucking thankful for that maniac’s attention. It burned and twisted inside him and made him hate Styles. He hated every other motherfucker in here- the ones who smirked and taunted and pushed him against the wall, rubbing their half hard cocks against him, the ones like him, who either looked at him with pity or with misery burning in their gaze- they taunted too- with bitter twists to their mouths, gleeful in knowing Louis' fate.

And then there was Styles. They lived in the same cell but ironically, unlike everyone else, he never said shit to Louis, never so much as touched him. In fact, back in their cell he ignored Louis so completely it was like he didn’t even exist. But during meal time, yard-time, showering; green eyes always watched him. It became so ingrained to Louis that during times when Styles wasn’t around, he had felt bare and exposed. As if anyone could come up to Louis and do anything to him and no one would stop them. It was an absurd thing to worry about because for all of Styles’ focus on him, he had never made any move of protection. So Louis didn’t have a fucking clue as to why he should feel safer with him around. Nevertheless, the feeling of loss- of vulnerability was there. To the extent that- with fingernails biting painfully into his palms- he’d gone looking for him during those times and was only able relax as soon as he was once again under his precious fucking attention. That is what made Louis hate Styles more than anyone else in here.

He didn’t _want_ Styles’ attention, he didn’t want anyone’s attention. But he was forced to accept it. And against his will he had somehow been manipulated into desiring his cell mate’s gaze, simply for the protection it seemed to give him. How had his life gotten this fucked up?

It was halfway into his third week when he started to notice a shift in the inmates’ behavior. A few of them- the ones with the most aggressive reputations- had become bold enough to approach Styles. Stopping by his table at meal time, dropping a comment. Louis watched the interactions from a distance. Styles didn’t acknowledge them, he would calmly chew his food, never lifting his eyes from Louis when they stopped. It made him shiver. He was used to it for the most part, but sometimes the unflinching focus Styles had on him made his gut clench.

It was several days before he actually heard what was being said to him. He was out in the yard trying to blend in with the brick wall by the weight lifting equipment. Which is fucking ridiculous in its own right because you can’t blend in anywhere in the orange shirt and pants. He’d picked a spot that was close enough to where Styles was doing arm curls with a weighted bar. Carson, a fat fuck who had grabbed Louis dick in the showers once, walked by Styles and this time Louis distinctly heard _you better fuck him or I’m going to_.

Once he’d heard it he couldn’t unhear it and it played on repeat in his head over and over again. In that one moment he was transported back to day one, terror twisting his insides. His reprieve would soon be over. He didn’t know when exactly, which brought him right back to the fucked up waiting game he had endured the first week.

The taunts also picked up. Louis found himself pushed up to walls more often, hot dirty breath in his face, threatening how _good_ they were going to give it to him. He began sticking closer and closer to Styles. At this point he tried to stay within a five foot radius of him. It seemed to stop the more violent interactions. The only problem being that now not only did he have to deal with threats to himself but he had to listen to all the comments to Styles. They were all usually variations of _fuck him or I’m going to_ and _time’s almost up._

There was a particularly disgusting encounter when he was on laundry duty. He’d been held down near the dryers while a greasy haired, smelly fuck had rubbed his limp dick all over Louis face. After a few taunts he’d let him go. Louis had scrubbed his face until his skin was burning, gagging the whole time as he tried to get hair out of his mouth. He never thought he had it in him to hurt anyone, but if that motherfucker ever came near him again Louis would be ready with _something._ Feeling weak and helpless enraged him. But that is all he would ever be in here, he realized bitterly.

Without question he went searching for Styles. He found him leaning against the east wall of the common room, looking completely detached from the groups and conversations going on around him. Despite his revulsion at having to do this, he walked right up to him and lifted Styles’ arm, placing it over his shoulder and leaned into his side. Initially he refused to look at him, stared out at the wall across, cheeks hot with embarrassment. He could feel the familiar sensation of being watched by him. After several minutes he glanced up only to be met with an intensity that took his breath away. He continued to match his gaze for the next several minutes, but the unflinching stare had the same edge of lunacy to it he’d seen before and he dropped his eyes. It made Louis sick that he had come here. Chose this fucking sick prick to hide behind.

As soon as he got back to his cell that night he threw up in the toilet. Styles ignored him as usual and he crawled onto the bottom bunk on his stomach and pressed his face into the pillow, wishing he had the courage to fucking suffocate himself. Day 26 in prison and Louis knew with a brutal certainty that it wouldn’t be long before he was fucked against his will. He drifted asleep feeling completely numb inside.

 

***

 

Louis woke, disoriented, heart thudding frantically. It took him one second to realize two things. Styles had him pinned face down to his mattress with his heavy body. There was a very large cock grinding into his ass.

Panic shot sparks up and down his limbs and with as much strength as he could he tried to get leverage with his arms underneath him. It felt like he was pushing up against granite though for all the difference he was making. Styles’ body was blanketing him from head to toe and the amount of pressure he was using to hold him down fucking hurt. It made him struggle even harder to try to squeeze out from underneath him.

Before he knew it a hand was sliding around his neck, choking off his breath for a moment with just the right amount of pressure. Louis sputtered, wheezing breaths into his lungs.

“Shhhhhh.” Styles whispered into his ear. It was a gentle hiss of breath but felt like a threat. The hand stayed curled around his throat but without pressure. Louis felt Styles’ other hand begin to card through his hair in an almost comforting fashion. “Shhhhhh.”

Louis almost started to believe that rubbing one off while petting him was as far as Styles would take it. In a fucked up way it seemed like Styles’ type of thing. But then he leaned harder on Louis with his chest, hand still snug against his throat and began shoving Louis’ pants down with his other one.

This was it. This was fucking it. Louis felt dead inside. He wasn’t going to be able to stop this. In a sick way he wanted to laugh. At least it would stop the others right? He knew that some guys get passed around. He should thank his lucky stars that he’s getting fucked by a psycho? That probably wouldn’t happen with him.

A cold splatter of something landed right on his ass, seconds later Styles pressed his fingers in between his cheeks, spreading the cold substance over his hole. He clenched up as tight as he could, trying to fight off the intrusion, but Styles’ was insistent and pressed a finger in despite his efforts. It stung and Louis knew that if he could just bring himself to relax and allow this that it would be a lot less painful, but fuck it. It didn’t matter how much it hurt, he wasn’t going along with this willingly.

The smell of grape traveled through the air and wildly, Louis remembered that toast with grape jelly had been a part of breakfast. The fact that he was about to get fucked in the ass with grape jelly seized him up inside and he began to struggle all over again, trying to get up on his knees, do whatever he could to get away from the insistent penetrating fingers.

Styles’ switched the hand squeezing his throat to hold him down painfully on the back of the neck, and it’s then that Louis realized it had been a bad idea to get on his knees. He felt it then. The blunt head of Styles’ cock pressing at his hole. It seemed impossibly large. He slowly pushed the head in and Louis clenched his fists into the pillow as hard as could. The burning sensation was intense. Tears pricked at his eyes as he tried not to make any noise.

Louis had done some experimenting in his life, but it had always included a ton of lube and plenty of prep opening him up. He had to bite down on his bottom lip as he thought- this is my life now. Getting fucked with grape jelly by an inmate. In _prison_. A bitter laugh scraped out.

Styles stopped pressing in at the noise and Louis wanted to scream at him to get it over with as quickly as possible. His asshole was in so much pain it was actually hard for him to remember that he’d ever enjoyed this before.

“Just fucking get it over with.” Louis bit out quietly. It humiliated him to have to voice that, like if he had kept quiet he could ignore the fact that he was getting fucked without his own permission. Saying it was acknowledging it and essentially asking Styles to proceed, but he couldn’t stand sitting still, being split wide open on his cock.

Louis hissed in pain as Styles resumed pushing slowly in. There was still some coiled tension in his body but it was due to the pain. He was beyond fighting this. It was happening whether he welcomed it or not. Styles’ must have sensed this because he removed the hand pressing down on Louis’ neck and he suddenly felt like he could breathe a little easier. Hands gripped his hips and then smoothed over the curves of his ass. Louis gritted his teeth when suddenly Styles splayed his cheeks and began rubbing his thumbs lightly over the red enflamed skin of Louis’ hole stretched over his cock.

He was so fucking sore there. It hurt but Louis was surprised to feel a flicker of pleasure as well. His hips jerked, pushing Styles in a bit further. He immediately froze, embarrassed by his body’s reaction. A wave of nausea rolled over him. He did not _want_ this regardless of what his body was doing. Styles pulled his fingers away for a few moments. Louis could hear wet sloppy noises and then he could feel warm, slippery spit-slick fingers sliding over his hole. He hissed again. It was such a mixture of pain and pleasure. His hole was certainly being stretched on Styles’ cock far more than it had on toys he’d ever experimented with. Louis’ traitorous body pushed back into the sensation once more and he felt Styles become fully seated inside him.

He couldn’t help himself, he mustered the strength to get his arms under him to support his head more comfortably and twisted his torso to look back at Styles. Moonlight coming in shined off of his eyes. His eyebrows were flat and drawn together in a look of deep concentration, his eyes looked black as they stared fiercely down at him. His gut clenched tightly in response and he buried his head back in his arms.

Louis set his jaw and pushed his ass into Styles, trying to encourage him to get the fuck moving so they could get this over with.

He seemed to have gotten the picture because he started up with shallow but fierce thrusts. Louis could hear the slap of his balls on his ass and huffs of breathe above him. Hands moved to Louis’ lower back and started massaging there. It irritated him and he tried slapping at Styles’ hands with one of his own. All he succeeded in doing though was getting his hand pinned to the mattress by his head and Styles was now blanketing his body again, forcing his hips to spread a bit wider. This changed the angle and he shuddered through a gasp at the ripple of pleasure ricocheting inside him. Styles kept going with short sharp thrusts and Louis had to bite back a moan. He began bucking backward into him and the sound of slapping flesh became more prominent. He burned with humiliation, but he just wanted to get this over with. His hips spread further and he could suddenly feel his half hard cock fattening up underneath him as it brushed against the mattress with his quick jerks.

Involuntarily a small moan escaped him. Styles made a guttural noise low in his throat behind him and then started pulling further out and sliding back into him with solid, deep thrusts, each forcing a gasp from him. He grit his teeth. He was so raw that he ached, but beyond that Styles fat cock was pressing so deep in his ass the pleasure was burning him up from the inside. Louis arched his hips further down to drag his cock up and down the rough fabric of the mattress, anything to get him through this goddamn inevitability.

The slapping noises sped up as Styles pistoned his hips faster and faster, little unnh’s forcing out of his mouth with each thrust. He leaned back over Louis and shoved two of his fingers into his mouth. Louis sputtered when they got a little too deep, but unheeded Styles pressed them further in until he was gagging him and then suddenly Louis was coming. Styles pressed him flat into the mattress, tensed and Louis felt the rush of come inside him.

Louis was blank for almost a minute, mind wiped clean of any thought. Coming back to himself, he scratched his nail bitten fingers against the scruff on his cheeks, still in a bit of a daze. He winced painfully as he pulled him out and ran to the toilet and threw up once again, it was only stomach bile but he heaved several more times before walking back to the bed with a slight tremor. He thought Styles would get up and proceed to ignore him like he normally did, but instead he pulled him onto the bed. The expression on Styles face was quiet and serene, he combed his fingers through Louis fringe, brushing it rhythmically back from his face. Eventually he fell asleep.

 

***

 

Louis shuffled stiffly through the line at breakfast. Wincing every couple of seconds as pain spiked through his ass. It garnered him some filthy smirks and some envious glares.

He felt different today. He couldn’t place why until he saw that fuck, Carson glaring at him and he smirked back at him and gave him the finger. He tensed, wondering why he'd been such a dumbfuck to do something like that. It’s inviting a reaction he most certainly would not enjoy.

But Carson just cursed him and spat on the ground at his feet before storming off. Louis blinked a couple times in confusion until the realization hit him. In this fucked up little society he’d been “claimed”. No one would fuck with him now. At least not seriously. From what he understood of it, someone could still challenge Styles at any given time. But given how the inmates had reacted to Styles prior, he didn’t think that was very likely.

He jumped in fear when he felt someone drape over his back. Louis hissed sharply at the pain arching through him as the breath huffed into his ear told him it was just Styles. He pulled away, turning to look at him in confusion. Styles had never before touched him in public spaces.

“What are you doing?”

He stood there, long hair in soft curling waves, one side behind his ear, that same eerie intensity in his eyes now focused on Louis’ mouth as he spoke. His eyes met Louis’, expression serious.

“Do you need me to get your breakfast for you?”

Louis was startled by the deep timber of his voice. It’s the first time he’d heard him speak even though he’d been inside for almost a month.

“Um. Sure. If you like.” Louis frowned, not expecting this and not knowing what to make of it.

He proceeded to experience the most painful mealtime of his life when he sat down to breakfast. He fought through it though because fuck if he wanted to be everyone’s entertainment. Styles sat next to him and practically plastered himself to Louis’ side. He tried to move sideways a couple times but Styles pressed tight up to him again. Louis bit the inside of his cheek in frustration.

Styles ate and stared at him the whole time. Which was the usual, only now it was less than a foot from his face. Irritating, but he could deal.

As they were standing up to leave Styles grabbed his arm and turned Louis to face him. His brows furrowed together and he simply looked at him for several minutes. It was almost like he was looking through him, an uncanny shine in his gaze. His focus came back and it was then that Louis could tell Styles was actually seeing him.

“I mean to tell you that I won’t stop myself tonight just because you are sore.”

Louis shivered and nodded his head. He expected as much.

 

***

 

In the afternoon, they were allowed time in the dayroom to watch television. Louis watched the TV and Styles watched him. Every couple of minutes Louis would look over at him just to see if he was still staring. And he always was. Louis _really_ looked at him at one point. Taking in the overly bright eyes, staring with such intensity at him, Styles’ hand on his thigh, gripping tightly. He wondered who he was before he came here, what he did to get here.

He seemed a bit _off_. Louis had to swallow back the urge to be sick when he glanced down at the possessive hand on his thigh again. He would never be completely free in here. But he supposed that if there was anyone that was the safest to be with, it was the resident psycho he’d already hitched his horse to.

**Author's Note:**

> Say hi on [tumblr](http://words-on-pages.tumblr.com/) if you wish!


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